Porsche — An emotion.
I’m floating in the clouds. I think I’m dreaming. I’m holding onto a steering wheel and it swivels effortlessly in my hands. In front of me, a cloudy mist blows across a road that I’m gliding along.
I glance down at the black horse emblazoned on a golden crest. It reads Porsche.
What? Am I actually driving a Porsche? This isn’t real, is it?
As my awareness builds, my senses start to sharpen. I can hear the throaty flat 6 grunting and purring in the back. I pull the paddles and the 911 responds with crunchy power and pops and bangs. She’s egging me on. My friend sits beside me. He can’t stop giggling.
This is real, alright! It slowly starts coming back to me.
Jacob, a childhood friend of mine, had a dream come true recently. His dad had bought a brand new 2020 Porsche 911 Carrera 912. Yep, that name is confusingly numeric, but, as I would later find out, the car itself is exactly the opposite. Once you strap yourself behind the wheel, it becomes an extension of your very being. Sharpness and clarity are all that she offers.
As am sure, friends usually do, Jacob had offered to take me out on a drive to show me his brand-new sports car. We set out before daybreak and drove through the dark, rain-soaked, twisting highways of midland Kerala.
I sat snug in the passenger seat as Jake gunned his Porsche through the darkness. I soaked in the sound of the crisp, sonorous, exhaust, the speed and pure confusing pleasure that’s the Porsche. On the inside, the Porsche looks unnervingly docile. The switchgear, dash, and even the dials are at most, subtly sporty. What you see doesn’t exactly match with what’s going on.
It was only the sensations that arose from that which I couldn’t see that gave me a sense of sportiness — The sound of that 380 horsepower, throaty, punchy flat 6 bolted in the rear; Being yanked around corners as Jacob twiddled the steering wheel; The way the large Pirelli P-Zeros clung to the tarmac below us, carrying us along as smoothly and satisfying as spreading chunky hot butter on toast.
To put my confusion with the Porsche in context — when you’re in a Lambo or a Ferrari, you know that the designers wanted you to know that you’re sitting in something fast and flamboyant! But the angels that designed the Porsche, evidently, didn’t want to distract you from the task at hand — drive.
After a happy while, Jake pulled over to the side as he spoke my favorite words of all time.
“Would you like to drive?”
We climbed out of the Porsche to swap seats. I walked around the rear of the Porsche. The early morning mist around me ascended the hill we were about to climb as I listened to the 911’s smoky exhaust grumble in invitation. It was one of those moments when something is happening to you and you can’t quite understand it or process what’s going on. You just go with the flow and then there I was sitting behind that holiest of holy artifacts — a Porsche steering wheel.
I flicked the silly little gear switch to ‘D’, released the e-brake and we were off.
The love was instant. The Porsche is one of the easiest most intuitive machines I have ever driven in my life. The steering was perfectly balanced. Every input gave me exactly what I wanted in return — swift directional pleasure. The Porsche is small and nimble and will take you exactly where you want to go. Fast.
I glided along, feathering the throttle gently — unfortunately Indian roads cannot accommodate sports car power -and the 911 was gentle in return. It exudes a sense of sensibility when you treat it well. You would even be tempted to think that you could drive this car to the grocers on a daily basis just to buy a little bottle of soda for your dad’s weekly dose of whiskey.
The sensibility lasted only until I chose, rather daringly, to bury my foot in the pedal, and with a sonorous clatter that sounded like 100 rain gods at war with Thor, the 911 launched us forward and up the hill we went. To my absolute delight, the drive up the hill was full of smooth curves and bends. I stand corrected — Kerala does have sportscar-worthy roads!
It’s at this point that I thought I was actually dreaming. I struggled to comprehend that I was actually, actually driving a Porsche 911. And I finally understood all the legend and lore behind this absolutely spectacular machine. And what a machine it was. I truly believe she spoke to me, inviting, or rather coaxing me to move along the earth in a way that I never imagined I could.
An amazing thing about a sports car is not just the joy it brings to the driver but also to the passerby. As we approached the top of the Kulamavu dam, we found ourselves slowed down by a speed-breaker at a police check post. Jacob quickly pushed a button and the Porsche’s nose rose slightly to help me navigate the hump safely. I glanced out the window to my right and saw a policeman, with a typical policeman-like questioning look on his face, scratching his head and looking at this strange new machine. I bet he doesn’t see a lot of 911’s at his job. I gave him a sheepish smile. He took one look at the Porsche, looked me straight in the eye, and nodded in reluctant approval, as though telling me “go for it son”.
Driving a Porsche is nothing but its own true emotion. Looking at a Porsche is an extension of this same emotion. An emotion that I’m still articulating in my mind as I write this down. And I sign off with sincere gratitude for being able to pilot one of the best driving machines of all time — The Porsche 911 Carrera.
I was so excited that I chopped up some shaky videos that I recorded on my OnePlus 6T and mixed it up with some good ol’ Moby, for your viewing pleasure.
